As my birchwood board glides across the glistening snow,

the brisk air fills my face, reminding me of frostbite.

I weave through the towering pine trees like a needle in thread,

Spraying the soft snow back at me, I get a facial.

I look up to the sky, to see the castles of white clouds,

blowing by me as the wind does on the trees.

I reach the bottom of the mountain sweating, from the copious layers of clothing.

The line for the gondola is long, but I can’t wait to get back to the top.  

The ride up is full of wonders, snow covers the trees like powdered sugar on a pastry.

I look down in awe to see the heights we reach.

I arrive at the peak, air thin as paper.

And I make my way down the mountain once more.

As I make my way down the rigorous mountain, a jump lies ahead.

Full speed, no stopping.

I am now flying through the air, adrenaline fills me.

I land on the pillow-like snow, and I want to do it all again.